


Son, can you play me a memory

by Silicu (silmil)



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek Reboot, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: And a very good looking crew, Birthday, Bones plays the piano, Cause Bones is awesome llike that, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enterprise Bridge Crew, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Good thing he has an awesome crew, Jim hates his birthday, McSpirk - Freeform, Other, Vulcan Kissing, and hints at, as in, chulu - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-27
Updated: 2013-09-27
Packaged: 2017-12-27 18:49:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/982350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silmil/pseuds/Silicu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The thing with Jim was, he hated his birthday. And with a good reason. So when the Federation decides to throw him a big-ass party he doesn't even want? You can't really blame him for being in a shitty mood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Son, can you play me a memory

**Author's Note:**

> Much like my previous work, inspired by my lovely friend Isa <3 It was a bit of a fix-it fic for the song... Let's just say she had some pretty heartbreaking headcanons with the song and I HAD to make it better. Also, I thank Isa for the title! Anyway, enjoy!

The thing with Jim was, he hated his birthday.

It’s easy to understand, really. There’s nothing to celebrate about the day you get one more year closer to death. There’s nothing to celebrate about the day you count another year longer that you’ve achieved nothing, or failed everyone around you.

And, there’s nothing to celebrate about the day your father died. Especially when the whole damn world kept talking about him.

Of course, that changed once you become the goddamn poster boy of the Federation’s flag ship. Whether you liked it or not.

So, after he’d graduated in three years, gotten his ship, saved the Earth two consecutive times and given the first known five-year exploratory mission, the brass decided to make a big-ass party for his birthday. To celebrate the living, they said.

Jim hated his birthday, but through his years he’d learned that he shouldn’t go out of his way to annoy everyone around himself. Also, he’d learned that there are things he had to do, as a captain, that he really didn’t like. And while boring high-class parties with nothing but the brass and the media there was by far the last thing he wanted to be at, he knew there was no way he could manage to get away from it.

What he didn’t understand was why the fuck there was going to be a damned rehearsal of the thing. Like the real deal the next day wouldn’t be bad enough… Sure, there were people with speeches and whatnot, but really? Why couldn’t they let him get wasted on the previous day if they wouldn’t let him on the right one, damn it?

Next day it was, then, he decided grimly as he straightened his silver tie.

Like the damn thing wasn’t bad enough, they had to make it high-class and make him wear a fucking [suit](http://24.media.tumblr.com/fa174b0d3ec73804c3776b504b7431e5/tumblr_mtkwhqwuIi1r5rfsmo1_500.png).

Damn his life.

He looked in the mirror. Presentable enough, he decided and rebelliously messed his hair up.

The alarm on his door went off, announcing his escort.

This was ridiculous. Sure, him and Spock and Bones had talked over things together and decided to make it official after Khan. Why the fuck did that mean him and Spock and Bones have to appear on damn parties together was beyond him.

He stalked towards the door and opened it swiftly, heading in the direction of the hall that had been prepared for the evening, bypassing Spock on his way. He heard the Vulcan follow him and only stopped when they reached the lift.

Spock remained silent beside him as they waited and took his place by his side inside as well. Jim blew a deep breath as they started moving.

“I just want this to be over with,” he said as he pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes hard.

“I must admit that the human custom of celebrating ones age is a mystery to me,” his Vulcan responded demurely.

“I’ll agree with you on that one…” Jim grumbled and let his hands hang back on his sides.

He caught Spock gazing at him from the corner of his eye, but stubbornly kept his eyes on the closed door before himself.

A moment later, his t’hy’la inched closer to him and shifted his hand subtly, bringing two fingers to brush against Jim’s own. He felt that familiar warmth which was usually reserved for quiet nights in his quarters, as well as soft reassurance creeping in the back of his mind.

Jim blinked and turned towards Spock a little shocked. He’d seen the Vulcan give into human displays of affection in public before (Nyota first, a long time ago, and then both him and Bones alike), but when it came to the _Vulcan_ customs, his XO preferred to keep those behind closed doors. Whenever they would happen to touch outside, he withdrew any and all telepathy, minimized it as much as he could.

So this small, soft kiss shocked him a bit, before he felt his frustration and anxiety melting away. He pushed his fingers back, not too far or too rushed, but kept the contact until the door finally opened.

Stepping out, Jim straightened his jacket and turned towards the big, decorated gate at the end of the hall. One look was enough to notice the inconsistencies. If this was supposed to be a rehearsal for tomorrow evening, there was a noticeable lack of people around, and no one to man the dresser.

“You sure we’re at the right place, Spock?” He tried, but the Vulcan seemed unfazed and replied with an easy:

“Affirmative, captain,” before starting towards the door.

Jim quirked an eyebrow, feeling out of the loop and followed quietly. He really would’ve rather locked himself in Bones’ room with the man’s good liquor cabinet and wasted the night away, but now apparently he would have to attend a party that wasn’t even going to start on time. 

Just perfect.

He didn’t even try to hide his scowl as he followed after Spock who politely pushed the heavy door before him open.

Stepping inside, Jim stopped no more than a step inside, just about enough for Spock to slip in behind him and close the door.

Jim’s first instinct was to scream in frustration because the damn room (ball room, hall, whatever) was empty and why didn’t Spock tell him this was just one goddamn big practical joke, and damn you could he just get out of this monkey suit and drown himself in cheap vodka and misery?

Then, when he looked around once more, he noticed a few figures scattered in groups of two or three around the giant room, who were suddenly very noticeably moving towards him and Spock.

Then, he could hear a piano playing on the other side of the room, but couldn’t really make out who was playing from his place.

Besides, he couldn’t really try to look past the small crowd that was gathering around him. His crew. His small, brilliant bridge crew, his family, all dressed up and simply _stunning_.

Scotty had somehow managed to get both the ladies in his humble group and looked stupidly happy with each of them hanging off his arm. Not that Jim would blame him, because the two of them were gorgeous – [Carol](http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2013/04/29/article-0-198BCD2F000005DC-99_634x1070.jpg) with her bright red dress that was strangely modest in model, covering her shoulders and torso and falling all the way to the ground, in contrast with the provocative color. And [Nyota](http://31.media.tumblr.com/01b83eef068b15638d73246aad2ba64b/tumblr_mt5rtyTR3v1qj7jp1o4_1280.jpg) in a white, much more revealing bareback dress that was in a stunning contrast with her darker skin.

Between them, the Scotsman looked exceptionally professional in a [dark blue suit](http://31.media.tumblr.com/31600e632e4e86cb937ed6c259ac648e/tumblr_mtoxrgf7JQ1qbmi9vo1_400.jpg), tailored and fitted to him perfectly and a striped tie, in a neat knot.

On Jim’s other side, Hikaru had also chosen blue as his color, but [his suit](http://www.vinspi.com.au/blog/wp-content/uploads/2012/01/john-cho-suit-v2.jpg) was more like a designer piece right off the glass display. He was perfectly color coordinated, all the way to his matching white shirt and handkerchief in his pocket. He had his hand rested on Pavel’s shoulders, the youngest of them smiling brightly from his stylish [silver suit](http://25.media.tumblr.com/d652a949479d7ce8c3fbce0a828c9f0c/tumblr_mtm2e6N1JO1rotdo9o1_500.png).

That was, strangely enough, the moment Jim actually looked at Spock and his [light beige](http://25.media.tumblr.com/009a6d921ca66a584b21ea0fdf863364/tumblr_mtoofngXeX1rf5ba8o3_500.jpg) colors, the suit pants and jacket hugging his form in all the right ways.

Well, damn, and he thought he had an attractive crew before. Good thing, really, that there weren’t any other people around, because he didn’t think it would leave a good impression to be ogling his bridge officers and almost drooling over them.

“Wh-what’s going on?” He stammered, trying not to stare at each of them separately and figure this one out, but with all the annoyance of the last few days his brain was not working in top condition.

“Happy birthday, Captain,” grinned Scotty and pushed a glass in Jim’s hand, beaming a bright smile at him as he took it.

“You guys do know that’s not until tomorrow, right?” Jim raised an eyebrow at them, still moving his eyes from one to the other and trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

“Yes, well since there is going to be this very posh, very intrusive party tomorrow, filled with people you don’t know and don’t care about, we decided a good set of the mood would be to make a small one that’s ours the previous night,” Nyota said as she moved forward and hugged him tightly, before delivering a quick kiss on his cheek. “Happy birthday, Jim.”

“Zer is even cake,” put in Pavel with the most enthusiastic smile he could muster for anything that wasn’t engineering or piloting the Enterprise. “We made it by an old Russian recipe I learned from my mother.”

“We?” Jim asked, still trying to figure out if this was for real. He’d been prepared for a horrible catastrophe of a rehearsal where everyone gets to read their speeches and he gets to go to his room, angry at the world and the bastards who thought they had the right to speak about his father and about him like he wasn’t in the fucking room. He’d been prepared to be exhausted like he always felt when he had to deal with the admiralty too much. He’d expected another night that would try his frail patience with authority and kissing up to people.

This, standing there and listening to Carol and Hikaru going on and on about how they’d baked his birthday cake was definitely not what he’d expected.

After their story ended with the burned first attempt and Pavel laughed loudly and Scotty joined and even Nyota released a small giggle he felt a smile stretching over his face and most of the frustration just leave his body in an instant.

“Whose idea was this, anyway?” He asked as he stepped closer to his family and finally let himself relax.

“Why don’t you ask him yourself?” Carol offered as she mentioned over her shoulder and the entire group moved, accompanying him across the room.

Spock dutifully remained by his side and when Jim raised a questioning brow at him, he murmured:

“As it is, Leonard seems to already be delivering his present.”

Just about to ask what that meant, Jim was stopped in front of the piano he had noticed earlier and the music shifted lightly, from mindless soft background accords, to a more structured melody.

Jim almost dropped his glass and most definitely spilled his jaw all over the floor.

Sitting there, with his fingers flying over the piano keys was no other than Bones. Bones, dressed in a [crisp white suit](http://ilarge.listal.com/image/1247679/936full-karl-urban.jpg), his undershirt unbuttoned on the top, tie nowhere in sight. His glass of bourbon was left on the edge of the big black piano and he almost looked like he’d offhandedly decided to stop what he was doing and sit down and play.

The melody that was rising beneath his fingers was simple in a way, not too complex, not too heavy or consuming the attention, but a steady perfect, plain background for when he started to [sing](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gxEPV4kolz0).

Bones started to _sing_.

 _It’s nine o’clock on a Saturday_  
The regular crowd shuffles in  
There’s an old man sitting next to me  
Makin’ love to his tonic and gin

The song kept rolling all around them, effortless and unstoppable hanging in the air between them and making them sway with the easy melody. It was lively and honest in a very lighthearted way. And Bones kept lifting his gaze from the keys every once in a while, honest to god _smiling_ at his audience, all scorching charm and smoky heat. And when he sang “ _And probably will be for life_ ”, his eyes locked with Jim’s in a way that was too much like a promise and it took his breath away.

And as the final accords were falling in place, Jim found himself applauding. The rest joined him easily as Bones rolled his eyes at them and everything was suddenly perfect. Leaning against Spock and feeling the Vulcan beside him as Bones started on another song, Jim felt that maybe, just maybe, he could get the hang of this celebrating thing.


End file.
